


We're All We've Got

by Ironkhaleesi



Series: Little Sister!Reader Incest - Marvel/Supernatural/Sherlock/Vikings/The Originals/Game of Thrones/Teen Wolf/King Arthur: Legend of the Sword [8]
Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Incest, Reader Insert, Smut, older brother/little sister incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 18:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10836456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironkhaleesi/pseuds/Ironkhaleesi
Summary: As children, the world had ostracised you and Sherlock - your family being the main culprit of this - but it wasn’t until the two of you grew up that you figured out why. It was because everyone had seen, long before either of you did, that you were more than just siblings to each other.





	We're All We've Got

You and Sherlock laid in his bed facing one another. Your bodies were close – closer than they should have been. It was the middle of the night and even though life outside the window bustled with noise it was quiet in the room.

Neither of you ever had to say much to the other. And maybe – just maybe – that’s how all your troubles had begun.

No one understood either of you the way you understood each other. Not John. Not Mycroft. No one. And so you’d found comfort in each other’s arms when the entire world told you not to.

Your legs were tangled together and Sherlock’s fingers were tracing the curves of your face. You simply laid there and watched him. Never had there been someone who looked at you the way Sherlock did.

Although, if you were being honest, even if there had been you wouldn’t have noticed them. Sherlock had always been the centre of your attention. He was the at the centre of everyone’s attention.

You were different, though. Because you were the only one he paid attention to in return.

For years, people had always seemed to have a problem with that. And, for all your combined intelligence, neither of you could figure out why. Neither of you could figure out why your family members had constantly tried to separate you.

They would take his seat next to you at the dinner table or on the bus. You were sent to different schools. Kept busy on family holidays.

You had both felt like the world was against you, and it wasn’t until the two of you went off to university that you understood why.

When your family looked at the two of you together, they didn’t see the brother and sister that you were meant to be … they saw lovers.

Your parents and siblings had seen, long before either you or Sherlock did, that the relationship the two of you had wasn’t innocent. That your bond didn’t stem from the foundation of blood relations.

And perhaps they felt guilty. You and Sherlock had been ostracised your entire lives. Your parents loved you, there was no doubt about it, but they didn’t understand you and Sherlock. Mycroft could have, if he tried, but he spent more time trying to prove he was better than the both of you.

And then there was Eurus.

She seemed to be the only one that ever encouraged you and Sherlock to be together. To take that one step further and become what you were never meant to be.

That only seemed to ostracise the two of you more, and now that you were older and had been reunited with her … the two of you knew her intentions had never been good.

Nevertheless, when you and Sherlock got into the same university and finally discovered why everyone had treated you so differently, you both decided to simply do what everyone had expected.

There had been no point in denying that everyone had been right. And if they were already expecting it – already pulling out the torches and pitchforks – then the only thing left was to actually do what they had always accused you of.

You became lovers.

It became the unspoken truth of the family. The dark, dirty secret that no one outside of immediate family really knew about.

Not even Moriarty seemed to know – that had been Sherlock’s biggest fear when the mastermind criminal had appeared in the limelight. But it seemed as though Eurus had never wanted that secret known.

Of course, by the time you and Sherlock had gotten together, she’d already been long gone.

Your and Sherlock’s lover’s flurry hadn’t lasted long, though. Students at the university became suspicious enough that Mycroft stepped in and transferred you.

It would be years before either of you would see each other again.

When you did finally find each other once more, you fell back into your old habits. Though, neither of you went further than overt affection, for fear that Mycroft would step back in and separate you.

The fact that the two of you were independent adults, and therefore out from under Mycroft’s thumb, had never been enough to quell that childish fright of separation.

Until this night.

Out of boredom, Sherlock had been reading up on anatomy. Which had led him to reproduction. Which had led him to sexual encounters. Which had led him to think about you and the brief moment, all those years ago, when he didn’t treat you like his little sister.

Now here you were, letting Sherlock decide whether his fear of losing you again was enough to stop him from having you the way he had always wanted.

“Are you sure you want to try this again?” you whispered as his finger traced over your bottom lip.

“I’ve always been sure about you,” he said.

That was the only warning you got before his lips were on yours and his hands were at the buttons of the shirt you were wearing – his shirt.

In seconds, the shirt was on the ground and your hands were exploring each other’s bodies. And you wondered how either of you had let your family keep the two of you apart for so long.

He threw his leg over one of yours to keep it pinned to the bed as he pushed your other thigh open. You were exposed to him completely – in a way you’d never been exposed to anyone else – and your breath caught in your throat as his long fingers slid through your folds.

He was propped on his elbow above you, looking down at where his fingers played against your hot, wet flesh. He had always liked watching what he did to you. He could never just let you close your legs on his hand or tease you under a table. You had to be spread open for him. He wanted to watch the way your skin flushed and your muscles contracted. He wanted to see the glistening of his fingers when he finally pulled them from your body.

He always loved you the most when you were completely vulnerable to him. It let him feel like he was in control. After he’d spent years being powerless to protect you from the whims of the Holmes family, he finally felt in control when he could see the vulnerable parts of you that you never let anyone else see.

Your fingers twisted in the sheets and your toes curled as you struggled to keep your legs open for him. You lifted your other hand and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“Sherlock,” you moaned as he looked down at your face.

You weren’t sure what you were trying to say – if you were begging him – but his name was all you could get out.

He became enamoured by the complete bliss in your face as he looked down at you.

“I love you,” he said.

And, before you got a chance to express your own feelings, he slid two fingers into you and curled them up to hit your g-spot. He began rapidly tapping his fingers against it.

You threw your head back into the pillows with a moan as your eyes fell closed. Your hand flew up to grip the headboard while your other hand tightened in his hair. You planted the foot of the leg he hadn’t pinned into the mattress and began lifting and rolling your hips against him.

His hand moved with you in an effort to keep his rhythm. His lips parted as your back arched and he couldn’t seem to wrench his eyes from your blissful face as you began convulsing around his fingers.

By the time he pulled his fingers from your body and was sucking them into his mouth, you were tugging at him until he rested between your thighs.

You pulled him into a kiss as you pushed his pants down – with your hand and feet – to his ankles where he kicked them off completely. 

 

Then your hands moved to his back where your nails dragged across his bare skin as his kiss curled your toes.

Not once did he break the kiss. Not even when he slid into you as he fitted his hand behind your knee so he could push it up and out to the side. 

 

The angle had you moaning into each other’s mouths as you tried to continue kissing. But in the end, the pleasure became so much that all you could do was pant and moan against each other’s mouths.

 

His pace was slow and drawn out so you both could feel every inch of his thrust.

He’d waited years to be intimate with you again. And, he supposed, some part – some small, irrational part – of his mind was terrified that Mycroft would sweep in and steal you away again. So, he wanted the moment to last.

But even as he drew the moment out – even as he held back with each growing orgasm – by the time he could no longer hold back, it already felt too soon. And when he finally pulled out, he already missed the feel of you tightening around him.

He moved to your side and helped rub the soreness from your joints as you brought your legs back together and stretched them out.

The two of you laid there as you tried to get your breath back. You were on your back, staring at the ceiling. He was on his side, staring at you.

What better representation of the relationship the two of you had. Your entire lives, you’d spent your days looking up at the stars, dreaming of a better place. And he’d spent his days looking at you, dreaming of your smile and the way his skin tingled when you touched him.

A laugh bubbled up your throat and your body shook with the force of it. And, for a brief moment, Sherlock felt the weight of repercussions fall from his shoulders as he watched you laugh with his own, small smile.

Mycroft could have walked in at that moment and, for all Sherlock’s intelligence, he would have simply laughed at his brother’s shock and inevitable threats. Because your happiness fuelled Sherlock’s and not even the end of the world could taint something as pure as that.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got more fics at iavengesuperwholock.tumblr.com


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